


How Many Roads

by tfm



Series: Trusting In You [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgan does something stupid. Reid confronts him. Top!Reid, established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Many Roads

How Many Roads

Spencer Reid does not trust easily.

He had trusted his father once – he’d been young then, and hadn’t really known what trust meant, but he had a father who loved him and nurtured him and cared for him. A man who one day, left, and didn’t look back. It doesn’t make him feel any better to think that his father had kept tabs on him. His mother had been sick – in need of help – and his father had walked out. No excuse, no amends, will ever be enough.

He had trusted Jason Gideon once – he’d still been young then. In his twenties, yes, but that’s young compared to the other people that he works with, and they hadn’t had so much faith, so much trust in the man who decided that he couldn’t handle it anymore. Of course, none of them had had the relationship with Gideon that Reid had – not sexual, of course, but mentoring.

He’s older now. Not much older, granted, but he thinks that his experiences both in and out of the BAU add about ten years to his age, relatively speaking. He trusts the team. He trusts Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss. He trusts Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia.

He trusts Derek Morgan.

And that’s the important one, really, because Derek Morgan’s the one who takes him to bed, lays kisses against his flat chest, his pale skin. Derek Morgan’s the one who holds him tight, who dominates him. It’d be a pretty hard way to live if he didn’t trust Derek Morgan.

He only wishes that Derek Morgan would trust him back.

He understands, of course. The memory of Carl Buford is no easy demon to deal with. But behind closed doors isn’t the only place where he needs to be trusted. On the job, out in the field – trust is the most important thing. Trust – or rather, the lack of trust – is the reason why Derek Morgan is just this moment being checked out of hospital, lucky to avoid a concussion.

‘I’ve got a shot,’ Reid had whispered into his wrist mike. It would have been a good shot. A clean shot. No innocent blood split. But no. Derek Morgan had to try and fight back anyway. He always has to fight back.

Reid hates it sometimes.

He’d spent almost ten years of his childhood looking after another person. It’s not as though he’s weak, even though everyone seems to think so sometimes. He doesn’t need protecting.

Evidently, Morgan picks up on his anger as they drive home.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, and Reid could almost hit him for being so obtuse. Derek Morgan is a fantastic profiler, but sometimes he can’t see what’s right in front of him.

‘I had the shot,’ he says, with a little more anger than he’d intended, because he had come so close to losing Morgan today, and he’s scared, as well as hurt.

‘What?’ Morgan asks, confused.

‘I had the shot – you had your earpiece in, and I said it over the radio – but you went ahead and tried to take him out anyway.’

There’s a moment of strained silence, before Morgan finally says, ‘I was distracted. I guess I didn’t hear you,’ and Reid knows that it’s a lie.

The awkwardness continues through dinner, and Morgan’s getting undressed for bed before Reid finally confronts him.

‘Do you trust me?’ he asks bluntly, and it’s a question that he’s asked before, even though he’s never really believed the answers Morgan had given him.

‘Reid, I-’ It’s something of a turn-on to see the other man flustered, but it will still be hard for him to do this, no pun intended.

‘Do you trust me?’ he asks again – this is the most forceful he’s ever been with Morgan. With any of the team really, except maybe Emily, in those months after his abduction. It’s in him though – he wouldn’t have been able to take care of his mother if he’d been weak.

‘Yes,’ Morgan says, and there’s anger in his voice too, but there’s confusion as well. Because in his conscious mind, he trusts Reid, even if his unconscious works hard to resist that trust. It’s good, in a way. Less road to travel, than if he hadn’t trusted Reid at all.

Reid puts a hand on Morgan’s wrist, as if to say: _prove it_. They walk towards the bed, and Morgan lies down, looking so fucking good in his boxers. For a moment Reid considers handcuffs, but then dismisses the thought, because restraint isn’t about trust so much as it is about domination, submission. For this to _really_ work, he needs to know that there’s trust without boundaries, without restraints.

He slips off his tie, vest and belt, leaving his white button up shirt hanging loose over the top of his pants. More accurately, it’s hiding the very quickly hardening form of his cock. In a way, it’s empowerment, because Morgan’s almost fully stripped, and Reid isn’t.

He lets his hand run along the older man’s chest, feeling the muscles that are the result of a thorough exercise regime. He’s smooth, and hard, and completely and utterly beautiful, and it angers Reid to think that anyone would hurt someone like Morgan. It angers him to think of the reasons why Morgan has come so far, and yet not far at all.

With slightly shaking hands, he pulls Morgan’s boxers down, pulling his erection free. Morgan takes a deep breath, but that’s the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Reid leans forward, his tongue darting out to lick the drop of liquid that’s beading on the tip of his boyfriend’s cock. Salty, but so, so good. He feels fingers starting to curl into his hair, and moves backwards quickly, ruining the slow, languid feel that’s been built up so far. Morgan looks at him questioningly, and all of a sudden understands. His arm moves to the headboard of the bed, curling around the bar of wood. His other hand grips the bed sheets, creating ripples and creases in the dark blue fabric.

Satisfied, Reid lets his tongue run across his lips before sliding over the head of the cock. Morgan lets out a soft moan, and it seems almost incongruous – this alpha male being so vulnerable – and yet, Reid knows that in a way, it is perfectly accurate.

His hands slide around Morgan’s ass, holding it tightly as he pushes his head down a little further. His tongue runs circles around the girth, and even his teeth are doing their part. Morgan lets out a loud whimper, and Reid pulls away before the other man comes.

His own cock is pulsating as he gestures for Morgan to turn over, and still, there are no words between them. He reaches for the nightstand, for the condoms and the lubricant in the top drawer. His hands still shake. He’s done this before, but not with Morgan. Not in this way.

His fingers coated with the substance, he runs a line along the cleft of Morgan’s ass, seeing the muscle clench the moment skin touches skin. He gives another whimper, and for a second, Reid feels torn, because it’s clear how hard this is.

He needs to do it though, and not only for their sake. One day, hand-to-hand combat might not work out in Morgan’s favor, and Reid does not want to see that day. He pushes a gentle finger inside, his other hand moving underneath Morgan’s body to grip his cock. ‘Morgan,’ he says softly, and the other man seems to relax at the sound of his voice. He withdraws, and then slips two fingers inside. ‘It’s okay,’ he says, even if it’s not.

He pulls out again, and rolls the condom over the length of his penis. He’s not overly long, and he’s thin, which is good, because he doesn’t want to hurt Morgan any more than he’s already been hurt. He coats the latex in lubricant, because you can never be too careful, and he’s gripping Morgan’s cock once more as he pushes his way in. It’s hot and it’s tight, and it’s different to anything Reid’s ever felt before, but it’s not unpleasant. Morgan lets out a strangled cry, and Reid stops briefly to ascertain that it’s not a “Please, Oh God No!” cry, before starting to move in and out – first gently, and then a little harder. His other arm snakes around the front of Morgan’s chest, not as much for stimulation purposes, but just to remind the other man that it’s him.

That he can be trusted.

Their cries grow to a mingling crescendo, and Reid simultaneously feels Morgan tightening again, and the burst of semen that explodes against his hand. His own orgasm follows quickly, and his brain short-circuits for half a second before he has the mind to withdraw.

He tosses the condom, and, noting the pearly white stains from Morgan’s ejaculation on the sheets, has half a mind to put a load of laundry on. First, though, there’s something else to deal with.

Morgan sits up, and the look on his face is some impossible mixture of sadness and pleasure, but he’s not angry, and he’s not running away.

‘Spencer…’ he starts, but doesn’t say anything more, and it means that he’s made an impact, because it’s not often that Derek Morgan is so lost for words.

Reid says nothing. He waits.

‘Spencer, I can’t promise that I will always make the right choices.’ He stops, biting his lip. ‘What…what happened will always be with me, even when I try to block it out, and I understand that you’re trying to help, but…’ He chokes back a sound that might be a sob, but it might be something else as well.

Reid puts a hand on his shoulder.

‘I know,’ he says.

But it’s a start.


End file.
